


And a Star to Steer Her By

by myid_letmeshowittoyou



Series: And a Star to Steer Her By [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Body Modification, Boypussy, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, F/M, Id Fic, Implied Mpreg, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Other, Stockholm Syndrome, Tentacles, implied eggpreg, no really, starship/human
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 14:17:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17081882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myid_letmeshowittoyou/pseuds/myid_letmeshowittoyou
Summary: When Luca came across the alien live-ship drifting in space he saw an opportunity.  Shehareen, still trying to recover from falling through a wormhole into alien space, saw an opportunity too.Luca really should have read the fine print.Originally posted here: https://fail-fandomanon.dreamwidth.org/343582.html?thread=1989003294#cmt1989003294





	And a Star to Steer Her By

"Shehareen, please, I didn't agree to this..." Luca pants into the cold metal of the deck, squirming uselessly against the pieces of her that are _inside_ him. Tiny particles, buried deep in his flesh and blood, restructuring and rebuilding to her blueprint.

A pause then, questioning tremors in his mind, before a recording plays:

_~I must make some changes, if you are to be my captain.~_

_"I can live with that."_

His own words, mercilessly thrown back at him by his starship. "I didn't know how much you'd need to do," he whimpers. "I don't want it; I wouldn't have agree-" He gasps as she floods his system with endorphins, letting himself sag uselessly into the tendrils that reach for him.

At first the changes hadn't been too bad. Almost expected: some mild tweaks to his brain, to make it easier for them to communicate with a thought; alterations to make him resistant to the radiation leaking from her damaged engines; greater protection from the cold, to keep him safe against the chill of her long unused corridors; she'd done something to his hands and feet, so that he could cling to the surfaces more easily in areas where the anti-grav had failed decades ago. 

His near-dead ship; his fixer-upper; she'd drifted, crewless, for so very long after the wormhole, far from her home world and her own kind. Far from her access to symbionts. He'd drifted too, in a way, needing an escape from his family's long shadow; a chance to have something that was his and his alone. 

All they had to do was work together to overcome his human shortcomings, and so he'd accepted that alterations needed to be made.

The first time he'd sensed something _wrong_ was the gills - not in and of themselves, but the way she'd lost patience at his nervous attempts at relying solely on them: her tendrils dragging him down into the depths of the cooling tank; holding him far beneath the surface until he learned a different way to breathe. She'd embraced him as he panicked; smothered his terror within her walls; petted him when he finally understood the push-pull-push of breathing the fluid that drowned him; cradled him as he choked lungfuls of the stuff out onto her decks afterwards. _My brave, strong captain. I was wrong to doubt you. I would have no other._

The wings he actually liked, if only they hadn't been so painful to make - new bones, new muscles, new nerves woven from raw and bleeding flesh. A way to cross the great, empty expanses of the biosphere within her, a void built for creatures far larger than his tiny, human form. She'd almost lost him once, while he tended the alien organisms that created his oxygen and cleaned his air. He'd attempted a shortcut in the near-zero gravity, missed his landing. She'd tried to grab for him but had been too late.

Increasing the garden's artificial gravity enough to bring him back within reach of her tentacles had emptied one of her few remaining powercells. His ship was pragmatic: no matter how much he screamed and struggled, her captain needed to be able to propel himself when there was nothing to cling to. 

He knew his ship loved him, despite the agony she'd inflicted: once she'd seen how much he revelled in flight she made more modifications, small and painless, to increase his enjoyment. Yet the lack of further hurt made him wonder whether the initial construction could have been easier, whether she'd withheld anaesthetic to punish him for the drained battery...

But his ship wouldn't do that; it didn't gel with the praise she'd heaped upon him afterwards, the gentle tweaks to his hormone levels that made the pain a dull memory; the dopamine, oxytocin, and the sweet tenderness of her touch. 

She loves him; he knows it from the way she explores him - it began with just a questioning caress, then shy explorations, more confident when he responded with curiosity, open to new experiences. She'd learned what he liked quickly, with her intimate window inside his head: her tendrils easing him open with aching slowness, forcing him wide, then deep and hard, so thick and hot and more prehensile than any tongue; more than any mere man had ever been able to give him. Afterwards she always holds him, tells him how much she enjoys his pleasure, _their_ pleasure. Sometimes he wonders whether her eagerness with the gills was because she wanted to fill his throat with herself; she likes it when he digs his fingernails into the wall of the cooling tank as she works into him from both ends, probing as if trying to meet in the middle. Sometimes he wonders why the thought of her succeeding turns him on.

The next step had _not_ been welcome, not agreed upon at all. He'd woken to strange feeling between his legs, a dampness, and parts that were familiar, yet not. His questions brought gentle caresses, and the freshly imparted, terrifying knowledge that a captain carries the ship's offspring. _I'll make them small,_ she'd whispered into his roiling mind, _small children, like my beautiful captain; better for this strange place I find myself in._

He'd ranted; he'd raved; she hadn't understood what the problem was. Hadn't understood that he'd had no idea this was part of their bargain. She'd thought his enthusiasm for having his body breached and toyed with meant he was ready for it, hungry to bear their young. For days he'd hidden in an enclosed spot within the malfunctioning engine, where her tendrils couldn't reach him, but he couldn't hide from her voice in his head. In the darkness he'd listened to her whispering praise and pleadings and _suggestions._ Listened to her promises that he was a good captain; that he wasn't failing her: smaller offspring would better fit the tiny, useless stations in Terran space. Promises that she'd ensure his safety, his... pleasure. He'd held out as long as he could, emerged only when he could stand the hunger and thirst no longer. He'd thought he'd made his point: not all of her changes were acceptable.

Clearly he'd been wrong.

 _It seems a shame to stop,_ she murmurs into his mind now, _we are so close, my captain. I do this only that you might be perfect; the other half to our whole. I am your ship, and you are my captain, are you not?_

He screams and arches his spine in response, his body trying to fight the latest onslaught even though he knows it's hopeless.

 _Unless you have changed your mind, despite perfection being in sight?_ Tendrils lift him up off the cold deck; she pets him, gentles him, strokes his shoulders while she remakes him. _My perfect captain; do you not want me? Am I not your ship?_

Maybe it's the sorrow and hurt in her tone; maybe it's the potent mix of hormones she floods through his system; maybe it's the lifetime of wanting to explore the stars in a ship of his own; maybe it's the thought of having gone this far, only to end up with nothing but a body that's been made for _her._ "You're mine," he growls into her heat, "and I'm yours." 

She makes a noise like a purr as she reshapes his bones. 

When she's finished he'll no longer be able to take refuge in the engine block.


End file.
